


Time and Time Again

by SharpAndPointy



Series: Feathers and Magic and Pranks, Oh My! [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Trickster Gabriel, Trickster Mode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 00:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3309164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharpAndPointy/pseuds/SharpAndPointy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Magical FBI gets Loki'd</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time and Time Again

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd. Please let me know if you see any errors in content or consistency. :)

** Set after Mystery Spot (season 3, episode 11) **

A flickering light in the corner of his vision caught Eric Larsson’s attention as he was filling out paperwork at his desk. Sighing, he looked over to see what piece of office equipment was asking for attention, and was surprised to see that it was not office equipment but the voicemail indicator on his phone. He must have left it on vacation mode by accident when he went to that conference last week. Oh well. Shifting over, he picked up the receiver and punched in his code to access his messages.

“Hey bro, just wanted to let you know what a hoot this place was. Thanks for the tip! We’re packing up now and running to catch our transport, so we’ll see you at G-ma’s birthday party in a couple of days. Oh. Sandy wanted me to tell you –” 

Eric frowned and replayed the message, but it cut off at the same spot. Checking the time stamp showed that it had been left a week ago. His frown deepened. Sandy and Gunnar had not been at the party last weekend. Saving the message, he looked up the contact number for IT and started dialing.

+++

“I can’t explain it, sir. There is nothing wrong with the equipment on this end. It is like the connection was cut off at the source, but there is no record of problems with the Florida utilities. We sent some agents out to get the lay of the land and the ones that came back had no recollection of what happened while they were gone.”

“The ones that came back?”

“Ah. Yes, sir. One of the eh… short tempered agents never checked in after heading out there. His wife got a call from Augustinian’s the next day: he ported in with an alligator bite to the, uh, rear.”

“How do we know he didn’t splinch himself and just say it was an alligator bite?”

“The, uh, alligator was still attached, sir. He said some guy called him, and I quote, ‘a giant pain in the ass’ and sic’d a gator on him before he was able to get away. He was the one that gave us the address to the bistro. I had some of the techies do long range scans.” Larsson handed over a sheaf of papers to the man behind the desk.

“What am I looking at here?”

“They found some interesting readings around Broward County. Looks like some kind of time loop around the whole area overlaid with a Notice-Me-Not ward powerful enough that no one has noticed anything amiss and our experienced field agents walked blindly into someone’s playground…”  
The man sighed and pressed a button on his intercom, “Virginia, who do we have available in Chronomancy?”

“Just a moment, Mr. Chaney,” came the tinny reply. “Mmm… Richards, sir. Shall I call him up for you?”

“Thank you, Virginia.” He released the button and sat back, rubbing his chin in thought.  
Larsson shuffled his feet, uncomfortable in the silence, until the door to the office opened and a good looking man poked his head in.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

The man behind the desk waved him forward, “yes, yes. Come in. This is Larsson.” The two agents nodded at each other and turned back to the director. “He caught something interesting in Broward County, but he needs a senior agent to lead the investigation. Show him the ropes and keep me in the loop. I want to know how this one plays out. Larsson, can brief you on the way down.”

“Sure thing.” Richards waved the younger agent ahead of him and they sized each other up as they filed out of the office.

+++

“That’s the guy?” SSA Richards gestured toward the unassuming character sitting at the outdoor bistro. “The one with the dainty coffee and pastry is the one causing a magical resi-whatsit?”

“Cascading magical residue, yes. As far as the long range readings can determine, his magical signature is all over the chrono-loop warding. Either he escaped it somehow, or he was the one that tipped the domino that got it started.”

“Hmm… ‘Kay. You stay here and take more readings. I’m going to go see if I can plant some short range sensors up there for you.”  
Larsson looked skeptical. “You do remember what happened to the last person that confronted him, yes? He may look docile, but everything we have points to a very powerful person with a short fuse.”

Richards snorted and exited the car, taking a moment to straighten out his casual business attire before heading up the street toward the bistro.

“Oh, excuse me; can I get some more of that lovely sauce for my beignets?” The man motioned to the agent walking past his table.

“I don’t work here,” Richards leaned down and slipped a device under the target’s table, “but I can go find one for you.”

“Work here. Working here. Same difference.” The man glared at Richards and a small pop sounded from under the table where the device shorted out. “Like I told the other guy: I don’t want to be bothered. You all don’t listen that well…”

“I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“Apology accepted. Now buzz off.”

+++

Larsson sighed as a swarm of bees chased his supervising officer down the street toward the docks.

+++

“Excuse me, sir.” 

The Trickster looked up from his mad-libs to see a badge being waved at him. The kid holding said badge looked nervous but the man behind him was agitated. 

“Ah. Hey Buzz.” He waved jauntily and then ignored the one covered in stings in favor of the polite one. “What can I do for you kid?”

Richards pushed past the younger agent to get in the Trickster’s personal space. “We need you to come with us and answer a few questions—”

“Mmm… nope.” Loki interrupted. “I will speak with her, though.” He flicked a business card at the younger agent, “but she has to come here. I’m busy.” He looked back down at his mad-libs book. “What’s a good action verb?” he mused.

“Licking?” Larsson suggested, snagging the card out of the air while Richards seethed over being ignored.

“That’ll work,” he smiled. “Now scoot.” Negligent fingers waved in their direction and both agents found themselves in the atrium of the FBI-Magoi Services offices.

+++

“You again.”

“Alright, buddy. I’m getting tired of your shenanigans. There is a squad of marksmen stationed around this quad and suppressors layering anti-magic nets over the whole area. Now, are you gonna put these cuffs on and come with us peacefully or do I need to call an ambulance?” Agent Richards loomed over the shorter man who ignored him in favor of slurping up the last drops of his milkshake.

“Did you pass my message on?” The Trickster squinted up at the fuming agent. “Lost it, did you? We can’t have that Billy. Shall I pin it to your coat so that it makes to home to mother this time?”

In the blink of an eye, Agent Richards as well as every one of the sniper squad that he had assembled had been relocated to the atrium. Every one of them had a business card attached to their foreheads, except for Richards. He was covered in them.

Larsson came running when he heard a familiar bellow from the front of the office, pitching in to help clear the mess and reassure the unnerved marksmen. After things calmed down a bit, he sidled over to his supervisor.

“So… I looked up that lady on the business card. She’s got stupid high clearance because of some dust up in Ohio. Her official title is ‘Celestial Persons Liaison,’ whatever that means.”

“What?”

Larsson shrugged. “I took the card to Chaney and had him follow up. Seems there is a flag in the system that sends her calls to a hotline in DC. They wanted copies of our PAD readouts and called back to say she’d be here in an hour.”

“You went to the Director without me?!”

“You were in the field and he wanted an update on everything pronto. I showed him the card and he made the call. It’s not like I could tell him no.”  
Richards snorted and went back to trying to remove the cards that refused to detach from his face.

+++

The Trickster looked up at the sound of a chair scraping across the table from him. Amity seemed unconcerned as she dropped a paper lunch bag on the table and plopped down to join him at the bistro table.

“You did something.”

“That’s the general agenda most days, toots. You’ll have to be more specific.” He dropped his sunglasses a bit to leer at her from over the top of them.

“At the home office? Just after we first met?”

He made a 'continue' gesture with his hands.

Amity snorted, “I was getting my ass handed to me by the disciplinary committee and then the big boss suddenly gets a bee in his bonnet about my situation. Ring any bells? He didn’t even know my name when he gave me the commendation. Kept calling me ‘Agent Stewart.’” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “And after you so kindly pointed out the power one can have just by knowing your name, I didn’t even correct him.”

Gabriel laughed and shoved the sunglasses back up his nose. “Most people would say ‘thank you.’”

“Most people haven’t had cause to research the adherents of the Old Ways. I’m not ever saying that to you.”

He pouted for a moment until Amity sighed and nudged the paper bag toward him.

“What’s this?”

“Triple fudge brownies. Homemade. Family secret recipe.”

“Ooo! Gimme!” He snatched the bag and yanked it open. 

“Three whole batches, just for you.” She smirked as his face relaxed in bliss at the first bite.

Gabriel recovered his composure after he finished the piece. Clutching the bag possessively, he wrapped it up and tucked it into the inside pocket of his blazer, along with his sunglasses. Suddenly his demeanor was serious and completely businesslike.

“Your offering pleases me, magissa. State your purpose and we will come to an accord.”

Amity dipped her head in acknowledgement and pulled a tablet from her messenger bag. “So what’s this about trapping an entire town in a time loop?”

“Never happened.”

“What?”

“The game stopped being fun so I re-set everything." He shrugged, "As of an hour ago there was never a time loop or a ‘cascading magical residue emergency.’”

“You… re-set... everything? As in… time itself? That’s dangerous!”

Gabriel snorted. “Maybe for you, but I know what I’m doing.”

“So you re-set TIME because you got BORED?!?” He shrugged again and Amity had to take a moment to collect herself before continuing. “You are aware that all time magics are heavily restricted by the federal government due to international treaty?”

“Yup!” He giggled and pulled something from his pocket. “That’s why I got a permit!” He waved it in her face. Amity snatched the paper and ran a diagnostic with her PAD. After a moment she leaned down and started banging her head on the table.

“Bill Richards is a total screw-up and I hope you gave him hell when he ran across your path. Un-officially, of course.”

“Billy boy? You could say that.” He buffed his nails on his chest looking proud of himself.

“Whatever it was, it was nowhere near what he deserved.” She stopped banging and sat up to look him in the eye. “Loki Laufayjarson, I apologize for this waste of your time. You were clearly abiding by the accords between us. Is there a forfeit you would demand of us?”

The calculating smile that bloomed on his face would have made the Grinch green (er) with envy.

+++

“He WHAT?!?”

The foot traffic in the atrium halted as everyone looked toward the executive offices where the shout had originated from before scattering as far as they could get away from the line of fire.

“You can’t seriously tell me that you are going to make me go through with this travesty?” Agent Richards stood as he punched the top of the table and turned to point threateningly in Amity’s face. “This is all your fault, you spineless hack! If you had done your job properly or sent in a seasoned negotiator we could have had a reasonable agreement, but you go in with a bag of brownies and walk out with—that!” He gestured to the belled joker’s cap sitting on the conference table. “I refuse to wear THAT for the rest of my life. I’d be a laughing stock!”

Amity looked up at him, nonplussed. “That is entirely the point, you silly man. YOUR arrogance put the Magoi Federal Government in breach of accords with an Old World god! A Fay! Do you have any idea of the concessions that he could have wrung from us as wergild for your actions?! We are VERY lucky that he conceded to only requiring a forfeit from the individual offender instead of the government itself. NO. ONE. in the chain of command is going to gainsay this decision.” She rolled her shoulders and sat back a bit. “And you should thank me for talking him down to this. His original demand was for an on-call babysitter for life.”  
Richards scoffed. “At least that way I wouldn’t have to wear the hat.”

“Are you a special kind of stupid? Do you even know who the children of Loki—” she stopped and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know what? Fine.” Amity slammed her notebook closed, swept her things off of the table and stood, nodding at the others across from her. “Gentlemen, it’s his decision: the hat or the babysitting. Do let me know which one this joker picks so that I can finish my report. And follow up with the offended party.” Stalking smoothly out of the conference room with a barely leashed fury, she made her way to the guest office and slumped against the inside of the closed door. 

“So. How’d it go?” A smirking figure seemed to materialize from the shadows of the far corner and she broke down laughing.

“Oh my god!” she gasped, dropping her notebook and holding her sides, “that was so much fun!”

“Worth another batch of brownies?” His expression was far too innocent and Amity rolled her eyes.

“Maybe.”

“Darling,” he sauntered forward and dropped an arm across her shoulders, “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

Amity slapped the hand that wandered down past her shoulder. “With a few provisos.”

“Eh. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> My head canon for this universe follows a couple of assumptions:  
> 1) Magical settlers to the New World tended to be the outcasts of Old World society, so they were more than willing to follow the democratic leanings of their non-magical counterparts when establishing communities.  
> 2) Greek is the standard language of magic, as it was already established before the Romans came along.  
> 3) The Industrial Revolution was embraced and American Magoi encouraged the field of technomancy, so most of the current electronics all have magical equivalents. This helped to encourage the idea of hiding in plain sight instead of isolating magoi from mundanes.
> 
> Vocabulary:  
> * Magoi - magicals  
> * Mundanes - muggles  
> * Chronomancy - Time Magics  
> * Magissa - (gr) female magic user  
> * Wergild - German/Celtic term for legal payment from antagonist (or family group) to wronged party (or family group) required for restitution


End file.
